


start on the streets of the invincible city

by spiekiel



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Age Difference, Fluff, M/M, Mild Graphic Violence, Possessive Harry, Protective Harry, chav slang, eggsy has a filthy mouth, honeypot mission, teenage prostitute eggsy unwin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:30:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiekiel/pseuds/spiekiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy pulls at his collar uncomfortably, knocking the bowtie crooked again.  “Me and mum had some tough times, you know? Rent’s enough overdue, no one’s gonna ask where you got the money.  So.”  </p><p>The instinct to never let anyone who doesn’t love this boy touch him ever again just about overpowers Harry’s hard-earned, fraying sense of propriety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	start on the streets of the invincible city

They’re standing very close in the considerable space of dressing room three.Harry’s knuckle brushes the warm skin of Eggsy’s throat, and he blinks for one protracted second to extinguish the familiar feeling of want that tries to burn its way steadily through his insides.  

 

“I thought,” he murmurs, “that you were supposed to master this sort of thing during the interview.”  

 

Eggsy makes a face behind his glasses, and Harry gives a final, crisp tug on the ears of his bowtie and drops his hands.“I never really got the hang of all those posh bits,” Eggsy says.“I reckon I’ll always be better suited for guns than cufflinks.”

 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Harry says, “you look fairly well suited to me.”He flicks his eyes down the tailored line ofEggsy’s back in the mirror in front of him, lingering on the swell of his arse, then back up to his own reflection, to the barely-there scarring at his temple, where there are a number of screws and plates currently holding his skull together.“Besides, it seemed like you had a fairly good handle on cufflinks your last outing.”

 

Eggsy rolls his shoulders, and Harry thinks he can credit Kingsman with the fact that the boy’s self-satisfied smile is only a slight curl at the corners of his mouth, not the big, wide thing that it used to be, nowhere near the brilliance of his genuinely _happy_ smile.  

 

“Thanks, pengting,” Eggsy says, “but I’m no use unless they’re the ones that are really tasers.”He turns, appraising himself in the mirror, one last tug on the bottom of his vest to pull it all together.  

 

“Luckily,” Harry brushes off the shoulders of Eggsy’s suit, even though there’s no need, because the planes of his shoulder blades are _gorgeous_ , even through layers of fabric, and he has to _touch_ , “those are the only sort you’ll ever have to wear at Kingsman.”  

 

He tries not to fixate on the proximity of Eggsy’s body heat at his back while he presses his hand against the mirror, holding still while it purrs quietly, scanning his handprint.He tries not to fixate on too much of anything, actually - not the mission he’s about to send Eggsy off on, not the fact that he’d rather take his boy back to his big, empty house to undo all the work he’s just done putting together Eggsy’s suit, bundle him into bed and see how filthy that exquisite mouth of his really is - 

 

The mirror slides out of the way, and they step through the wash room to the armory.Eggsy pauses in the middle of the room while Harry goes to a smaller case on the far wall, taking a deep, concealed breath while he presses a button, the cover of the case sliding away.  

 

“So,” Eggsy says from behind him, “what do you lot use for this sort of mission? Poison rubbers?”

 

Harry’s fingers stutter on the cap of a knockout lipstick, and he smiles ruefully.“Actually, yes.”

 

He knows, inherently, without seeing him, that Eggsy straightens in interest.“Really?”

 

Harry chuckles, “No, not really.”He turns around, to Eggsy’s somewhat deflated expression, and if he were wearing that damned stupid hat that he’s so fond of, Harry doesn’t think he’d be able to resist tucking his face under the brim to kiss the pout from his lips.“We can’t have the mark spooking because he thinks you’re married, so no ring,” he says.“I’d give you the poison lipstick, but we have no intel suggesting the mark will go for that sort of thing, so,” he holds up a small tube, “paralytic lube.”

 

Eggsy reaches out and takes the tube from him.“Won’t this take me out as well?”

 

“No,” Harry replies, “it’s only potent through thin areas of skin, so - “

 

“Keep it away from my cock and my arse, got it,” Eggsy flips the tube up and catches it, grinning.  

 

There are the rapid-spreading tributary roots of a clouded, driving anger winding their way around Harry’s heart, and he knows that he has no claim to Eggsy, knows logically that Kingsman, that duty and the greater good overrule personal attachment, emotion, but pretty soon he won’t be able to open his mouth lest the great rising branches of rage burst forth from his chest.

 

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat.“If Merlin’s intel is correct - “

 

“Which it always is,” Eggsy interrupts.

 

“Usually,” Harry amends shortly.“If the intel is correct, then the mark will prefer to top - “

 

“Makes it more difficult,” Eggsy muses.“Can’t just lube up and ride him - “

 

“Eggsy,” Harry says involuntarily.He holds Eggsy’s bright blue gaze, swallowing, and says nothing for a long moment, because he hadn’t planned anything to say.But he knows what he wants to say, so he edits quickly and says, “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

 

Eggsy shuffles his feet, tucks the tube of lube away in an inner suit pocket.“It’s my job, innit?”

 

Harry shakes his head.“There are agents who opt out of honeypot missions, because of their religion or because they’re married, no one would fault you for it.”

 

“Look, Harry, I - “ Eggsy sighs.He runs his tongue over his lower lip, bites it, runs a hand through his hair, and Harry knows it’s just a nervous tick but it makes him want to shove him back onto the leather bench and lick into his mouth.“I’ve done this sort of thing before, alright?”

 

Harry’s blood runs cold, and he feels the muscles in his hand spasm involuntarily like they haven’t since his rehabilitation.“What do you mean?” he asks carefully.

 

Eggsy pulls at his collar uncomfortably, knocking the bowtie crooked again.“Me and mum had some tough times, you know? Rent’s enough overdue, no one’s gonna ask where you got the money.So.”  

 

The instinct to never let anyone who doesn’t love this boy touch him ever again just about overpowers Harry’s ingrained, hard-earned, fraying sense of propriety.He grinds his jaw so hard he thinks he can feel the still-healing bones popping, and says nothing.

 

Eggsy drops his gaze, turns to go.“I can handle this, yeah?” he says, in parting.“Swear down.”

 

It takes Harry twelve and a half minutes to compose himself before he dares step out of dressing room three.

 

∞

 

With Merlin acting as interim Arthur and all fit agents slotted for active duty in the shambles of Valentine’s world domination attempt, it has fallen to Harry to oversee the simultaneous job interviews for the two agents that Kingsman lost in the chaos - Caradoc and Bedivere.He was planning on running the Caradoc candidates through the tiger-in-a-traincar simulation tonight, but all he can think of is how _young_ they all are, how young must Eggsy have been when he was out selling himself for rent money - 

 

He gives them all the night off.

 

Harry’s head is pounding as he makes his way down into the insomniac bustle of the Merlin division.Merlin’s underlings are working frantically, each managing his or her own agent, every ounce of manpower still working damage control in dozens of different cities around the world, and he has to sidestep a blue-haired young woman in a cat sweater who goes nipping by at high speed with two trays of coffee.

 

Merlin himself is sequestered in a large glass-walled office overlooking the bullpen, rather more sedate in his work as he sips carefully from a mug with a mustache on it.Harry knows for a fact that Merlin has taken it upon himself to personally handle Roxy and Eggsy - Lancelot and Howel - while they’re here holding down the fort in London, and for all that Merlin insists that he just wants a break from the strain of managing international missions, Harry has a feeling the crotchety old hacker has taken a shine to the two of them - 

 

He knocks gently as he enters Merlin’s office.  

 

Merlin glances up.“Galahad.Come in.”He taps a few keys, and pulls his headset down around his neck.“Howel is just about to make contact with the mark.”

 

Harry nods.Objectively, he asks, “Any sign of the Saudis?”

 

Eggsy’s voice comes over the speakers of Merlin’s computers.“Ey, pengting, nice of you to join us.”

 

Merlin sighs.“Howel,” he chastises, “get rid of the slang, if you please.”Harry actually has to bite the edge of his tongue to keep from jumping to defend Eggsy’s endearing colloquialisms, but he manages.“And no, no sign of the Saudis.”

 

“Yet,” Harry adds.Eggsy _uh-hum_ s in agreement.

 

Merlin taps away at the keyboard again, and one of the monitors pulls into a zoom from Eggsy’s glasses cam on a lone man at the far end of the hotel bar.“Alright,” Merlin says.“That was his fourth whiskey.Move now.Remember, he grew up as a devout Muslim; anything too openly gay will scare him off.”

 

Eggsy mutters something that sounds like, “Fucking spineless bastard - “

 

Then he’s up and moving within hearing range of the mark, swirling a martini glass in one hand, his gait noticeably different in the overhead feed from the hotel security camera, nothing like his usual slouched, loping walk.The mark looks up at him as Eggsy approaches his table, a predatory smile that churns Harry’s stomach creeping across his face, and Eggsy says, “Hello to _you_ , handsome.”

 

Merlin drops his head into his hands.“I said _not too gay_ , Howel.”

 

But the mark looks Eggsy up and down once - Harry wants to bang his head repeatedly against the table until he passes out, and then stick a knife through his ankle and leave him hanging upside down from the sweeping staircase that leads up to the hotel’s rooms - and says in heavily accented English, “Hello to you too, _sharmuta_.”

 

Eggsy’s Arabic is still elementary at best, but Harry knows that Kingsman is in the habit of teaching words that might show up in fights first, so he defenitely recognizes the Saudi slang for _whore_.Eggsy falters - Harry _knows_ that he falters, because the timing is off before he replies, “Can I buy you a drink?”

 

The mark shifts, puffing his chest and angling his shoulders so he’s boxing Eggsy in.“I think I ought to be the one buying you a drink, actually.But neither of us are really here for the drink, are we?”

 

Merlin snickers lightly.“Well, I was right about his sexual preferences.”

 

Harry grinds his teeth, eyes tracking the movement of the mark’s hand to finger the fabric of Eggsy’s waistcoat, and Harry’s going to spend his next holiday making this man’s life _exceedingly_ unpleasant.“Be sure to keep an eye out for the Saudis, Eg - Howel,” he says.“They’ll want him dead, and they cannot get to him until after we have the information we need.”

 

“Alright,” Eggsy says, to them and the mark.“Why don’t we go somewhere more private?”

 

Merlin switches over to the elevator security cam as the mark brackets Eggsy against the wall and sets about biting his earlobe.Eggsy laughs, but Harry knows that it’s fake, that’s not how his boy laughs when he’s happy, he hitches a leg up around the mark’s hip and makes a noise like he’s enjoying it, the mark’s fingers sliding under Eggsy’s suit jacket.Kingsman teaches their recruits how to moan like they mean it, lay back and think of England, abs or tits or arses or legs, whatever gets them going - 

 

Eggsy’s glasses are useless at this point, aimed at the elevator ceiling, just catching the edge of the floor numbers as they tick past, and the microphone in the glasses earpiece is only picking up the wet suction of the mark’s sloppy treatment of Eggsy’s ear.That’s why Harry decides that he’s only imagining the fact that Eggsy’s next moan sounds like his name _-_

 

Because if that were true, Harry would have to remove himself from the face of God’s green earth before he could stop himself from _killing_ this man for touching his boy.

 

A number of things happen very rapidly after that.Eggsy’s not yet closed his mouth around the moan the elevator dings to a halt, the glasses are knocked from Eggsy’s face, the picture tumbling wildly, the doors start to slide open, and a gunshot cracks out in the confined space.  

 

Harry steps forward instinctively, and even though he knows somewhere in the back of his mind that Eggsy can’t heare him, he still says sharply, “ _Eggsy_ \- “

 

In the elevator cam, he sees Eggsy bodily tackle the guy out into the hallway, knocking a gun sideways out of his hand to skitter away down the tiles.He gets his knee in the mark’s throat, other leg pressed down across his shins while he holds his hands pinned above his head.The mark tries to buck him off, but he doesn’t have the body mass, and - 

 

Merlin is typing frantically, intercepting emergency calls and redirecting hotel security, and he barks out, “Howel, once he’s out, leave him and go for the intel, there’s a back staircase near the mark’s room that goes to a maintenance alley - “

 

The mark is starting to go limp underneath Eggsy in the fractional picture from the elevator cam when another burst of gunfire catches him off guard, and he scrambles backwards into the elevator, slamming down on the door close button.The gunfire gets closer and closer, the mark’s head explodes in a spray of brain matter and blood, the back wall of the elevator starts to dent, and Eggsy gets clipped on the shoulder in the second before the doors slide close.

 

In ringing quiet, Eggsy fumbles the cracked glasses back onto his face.“I found the Saudis,” he says.

 

Merlin’s got the feed from the floor Eggsy just tried to get off on pulled up on one of the monitors.“Looks like there are eight of them,” he says.“Maybe more, the camera doesn’t cover the whole hallway.”

 

Harry steps up behind his chair.“Howel, are you hit?”

 

Eggsy’s glasses cam shows him looking down at the front of his suit.It’s still rumpled, and there’s blood seeping from a wound in his side, and from a graze on his left arm, the black fabric darkening wetly.“It’s not bad,” he says, “I’m alright to keep going.”

 

“Eggsy - “

 

“Swear down, pengting, I’m fine.”

 

Merlin sighs, “ _Slang_ , Howel - “

 

“Oi, it’s not like there’s anyone here, innit?”

 

“Get off a few floors down,” Merlin snaps.“Take the emergency stairs back up, take them out, get into room 3415, get the intel we’re after, and get the hell back to the Saville Row shop.”

 

Eggsy staggers to his feet with a strained grunt, and presses a random, nearby floor on the button tower.“I can handle eight,” he says.“Any more, I might have to blow something up a little bit.”

 

Merlin rounds on Harry in his spinny desk chair.“Did you let him take a grenade to a honeypot mission?”

 

Harry tries to look innocent, but he stopped trying to keep Eggsy from pickpocketing the armory a while ago.To appease Merlin, he says, “Explosives are a last resort, Howel.”

 

He’d be lying if he said he weren’t at least a bit glad to see Eggsy’s mark dead on the ground once Eggsy’s done with the - twelve - Saudis in the hallway.

 

∞

 

The crisp, sterile white of the bandages makes Eggsy’s skin look tanner than it is, but it also makes the bruising leftover from his run-in with the Saudis appear darker, more violent in contrast.He’s twisting awkwardly to try and wrap his own torso, arm wound already taped over with gauze, and he hisses in pain when he stretches too far, tearing the wound.

 

“Let me, love,” Harry says.  

 

Eggsy looks back at the door to the dressing room three watchroom sharply.His glasses are gone, hair mussed up from the night’s events, and stripped down to just his trousers, smooth lines and smooth skin, he looks - young, and beautiful, something Harry would very much so like to have, and keep.  

 

Eggsy lets the tension out of his spine, dropping his hands, still clutching the roll of gauze lightly, into his lap.“Yeah, alright,” he mumbles, “go ahead.”

 

Harry steps forward, shucks off his suit jacket, and lays it on the metal examination table next to Eggsy.He rolls his sleeves efficiently to the elbow, takes the gauze from Eggsy’s limp fingers, and resumes the careful wrapping of his gunshot wound.“You did very well this evening, Eggsy,” he says softly.

 

Eggsy chuckles tiredly, and Harry can feel the contraction of his abdominal muscles under the pads of his fingers, thrillingly.“Didn’t feel much like it, honest.Helluva _honeypot_ _interruptus_ , yeah?”

 

Harry lets a gruff, “Good,” escape before he can reign himself in.He feels looser here, where he could lean forward press his face into the back of Eggsy’s neck and breathe deeply, if his boy were to allow it.

 

Eggsy doesn’t wait for Harry to finish tying off the gauze to turn around and face him, so it ends up with a ripped edge sticking out like the ear on a shoelace.“I could’ve handled it,” he says, a sharp note of anger in his voice.“I told you, I’ve had to do this kind of shit before, it’s not a problem - “

 

Harry drops his hands hard to the edge of the metal table on either side of Eggsy’s hips, and squeezes, doing his best to dent the surface.“It’s a problem for _me_ , Eggsy,” he growls.“You should not have to let yourself be touched by someone you do not want - “

 

Eggsy scoots until his bare feet brush the cold white tiles, grabs the back of Harry’s neck, and kisses him hungrily.Harry makes a soft, surprised sound in the back of his throat, but Eggsy’s lips are moving slowly against his, and he is entirely helpless to do anything but open to him, wrap his arms around his waist and pull him flush against him, the heat of Eggsy’s bare chest searing through Harry’s shirt.

 

Eggsy draws back a breath of an inch, his tongue catching on Harry’s lower lip.“I moaned your name,” he murmurs, the exhalation of air with his words is cool on the wetness of Harry’s mouth.“That’s what spooked the mark.I moaned your name like a fucking whore, pengting - “

 

Harry’s stomach swoops, the words go straight to his cock, but he nuzzles into the side of Eggsy’s face and says, “No, no - you’re not a whore, you’re a Kingsman, you’re extraordinary, you are - everything I could ever want in this world or any other, Eggsy - “

 

Eggsy pulls him back to his mouth, lips open and filthy, his hand dragging through Harry’s heretofore impeccable hair, and Harry focuses very hard on not letting his fingers dig too deeply into the skin above Eggsy’s arse, on not rutting his hips forward like a teenager against the bulge in the front of Eggsy’s bespoke trousers.

 

His boy’s fingers make short enough work of his tie that he suspects the whole business with the bowtie was a ruse, and he puts a small, bearable amount of space between them before Eggsy sets about on his neck and he loses his frayed, static control for good.  

 

“Alright, love?” he asks, sure to hold Eggsy’s gaze.

 

Eggsy smiles, wide and brilliant and real-happy, and Harry’s heart clenches almost painfully.“Yeah,” he says.“Yeah, safe.”

 

Harry smiles softly.“Okay, then.Safe.”

 

Eggsy snorts.“Sounds right weird when you say it, all posh-like.”

 

Harry kisses him once, twice, and a third time, short closed-mouthed presses, eyes still half open because he doesn’t quite feel ready to look away.Eggsy’s legs tighten around his hips, and Harry sinks one hand into his hair, blunt nails scraping his scalp, the gorgeous, frantic stamping of Eggsy’s heartbeat a steady sort of burn against his chest.  

 

Eggsy moves to suck a trail of hot, wet kisses across Harry’s jaw, to his neck, rolling his hips forward deftly against Harry’s, and it punches a moan out of Harry’s lungs, which makes Eggsy bite down softly at the skin of his throat.“We,” Harry manages, somehow, “should go somewhere with no cameras.”

 

He revels in the feel of Eggsy’s smile in the crook of his shoulder.“You got a bed in mind, pengting?”

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> pls feel free to brit pick i could use the help


End file.
